I was fairly certain ‘Noeth Ac Anoeth’ was a single malt whisky, but it transpires it’s a Welsh phrase, and defines a druidic concept, meaning an abode of existence, or Hades crossed with nothingness, and as such, according to the band, it captures the album’s mood perfectly – mysterious, dark and spacious.
And indeed it does. After all, we are talking about an album with just three tracks. Opener ‘Les Paradide Artificiels’ is a trudging monolith of overdrive, with haunting, ethereal vocals floating over the swirling abyss of sludgy guitars evoking an image of angels dancing and weaving above a molten vortex which sucks all comers down through the earth’s layers to the hellish bowels which lie at its core.
At a mere ten minutes, it’s but a morsel, a taster for the epic doom grinds which follow – namely the ten-and-a-half minute ‘Slave Moon’ and the truly epic ‘Nacht Hexen Master’, with a running time in excess of half an hour, and which builds through a nagging, atmospheric intro which calls to mind The Sisters of Mercy’s ‘Romeo Down’ courtesy of its looping, flanged bassline, before dredging the depths of guitar dirt. Haunting, angelic voices drift over the drifting fog of this hellish sonic pit.
|
It seems a reasonable juncture to mention Sleep’s ‘Dopesmoker’, or the idea of an early Melvins track on an eternal loop: MWWB know how to grind a riff into the ground, and then to continue to crush it. If you’re reading this review, you probably already have an inkling that this is some heavy shit, but for the record – this is some heavy shit.
Their last release should have adequately dispelled any notions of this band being a comedy doom / drone act and demonstrated that despite the name, these guys mean business. Dubious as their name may be, this album should truly deal it once and for all: MWB are one of the mightiest stoner doom bands around right now. And when I say ‘mighty’ – yes, I mean fucking ‘mighty’.
Mammoth Weed Wizard Bastard Online
|
